Maybe, A Waltz
by sacrenoirr
Summary: It was all just fun and games but when night eases in, that's when thoughts stir, when pulse races. Set in the same day as "Hex Club 7", Alex wonders what her true unfinished business is and whether or not she has enough paper to write to the big man upstairs. Hal, on the other hand, is plagued by his thirst for blood. And the truth was, maybe they needed a break.


The truth was she really did want to learn how to dance, properly dance.

Maybe a waltz.

She had always pictured it in her mind, molded by years of Disney's classic _Cinderella_. Although the big dress was not a part of her dream, she wanted it to be just as magical or as magical as it could be sans castle, prince and fairy godmother. And when it came time to scratch it off her bucket list, Alex didn't do it. Not because she didn't want to but because for once, after a whole day with Lady Mary, she wanted something fun. She wanted to laugh with her boys…well, at was more like it. And maybe, YouTube suggested S Club 7 on her phone. Who was to blame her for reading the signs?

After Tom and Hal had gone to bed, there Alex sat in a lonely faded lavender chair situated in the middle of the room. Knees brought up to her chest, she wrapped one arm around them while her fingers picked at the lint clinging to the chair. Quiet and alone, her mind raced. What if that was her unfinished business? Hal had said that it could be a myriad of things even the most trivial.

Oh God, was she going to be stuck on Earth because she didn't dance? That was perhaps the most fucked up thing she had ever heard. She needed to speak to whoever made up these ghost rules. Perhaps she could spend her nights preparing her strong worded complaint to the big man upstairs. That would give her something to do.

Scanning her room for some paper, outside her door, she heard a click and the creak of the stairs. Someone had woken up and tried to close their door quietly. It would have been quiet if she had been sleeping and not so alert. Her lips pursed. Her brows furrowed. Who would be up at this hour?

The truth was his mouth was parched with desire, desire for blood. His hands shook as he held up the canteen. No blood, but he could smell it. He could still smell the rust and the hint of salt from flesh. He could still taste its metallic and thick consistency.

And he needed blood.

Hal paced in his room for hours, his eyes flickered to the tiny bottle lying on his bedside table. No, he had to stop. He needed to stop.

But nothing would help him. No tedious and straining task could occupy his mind long enough to stop, not even counting each thread that made up the carpet on his bedroom floor. Just being in the room, being in such close proximity to the thing he desired most was too much.

Not even thinking, he bolted out of the room, past the small bedside table with the empty canteen and tried to close the door behind him silently. His chest rose and fell as if he had ran a marathon. Head leaned back against the door, he waited a moment. He could still smell it, his lower lip quivered and he knew he had to move.

Walking on the balls of his feet, he ran down the stairs. His hand gripped the bottom of the staircase railing as he balanced himself when he stopped. Only now did he get fresh air. His lungs gobbled it up delightfully. Knuckles whitened at his tense grip, he cleared his mind. How long would this last?

Alex had fought the urge to rent-a-ghost downstairs. Something in her gut told her now would not be the best time to appear out of thin air to someone desperately seeking quiet. By the time she reached the top of the staircase, she heard heavy and shaky breathing, a little bit of mumbling too.

One step down at a time, she saw his messy and untamed dark hair, pulled in different directions.

"Hal?" her voice called out softly with laced concern and curiosity. The breathing stopped and he stepped into view, hand still gripped onto the banister. "What are you doing down here?"

Despite his urges to tell her, to warn her, habits kicked in. A wavering but easy smile stretched on his lips as he shook his head. "Couldn't sleep. Did I wake you?"

The question brought out a laugh. "Yeah, totally shook me out of my ghost beauty sleep." His laughter chimed in. Idiot, he thought. He hoped she didn't catch on.

Settling on one of the steps, Alex propped an elbow on her knee and rested her chin on the palm of her hand. Eyes watching him with curiosity. He needed to think quickly before she asked more questions.

"Well, did I disturb whatever you were doing?"

"Yeah, you were," she answered bluntly, "But, I suppose you could help me."

Good, he thought. She was easy to distract. "Help? With what?"

"I need to prepare a speech for the big man up there," she pointed up. Hal looked at the ceiling out of habit before he looked down again. Confusion etched on his face now. Thirst still scratched at his throat.

"You're preparing a speech to God? For what?"

"His unfinished business rules. They're all shit."

Shaking his head, Hal let go and folded his arms across his chest. "You're just not doing it correctly. You're abusing the rules. For example, today when you made a mockery of me and Tom by making us dance to that absurd S Club 7 song."

She wanted to laugh but she held it all in with a smile instead. "Well, I was only following the signs," she repeated what she had told herself just a few minutes ago. "YouTube had it on their page, I had a phone, you and Tom were around. What's a good laugh between mates, huh?"

Hal glared. She kept her smile firm.

"Was that even really on your list?"

"Well, yeah. Why would I write it if it wasn't?"

"At least that is crossed off your ridiculous list."

"No it isn't," she answered.

"What do you mean it isn't?" he asked a bit dumbfounded. That was Alex's talent whether she knew it or not, she had an ability to surprise him. Now, her lips fell a bit and her cheeks flushed. Her eyes lowered as her fingers picked at her tights some more. "Alex," he said exasperated by her sudden silence.

"You can't laugh."

"I won't laugh. You have my word." Although, what were the worth of words really when he's gone back on them so many times. Surely, not as much as they once were.

Building enough courage, she spoke quickly, "Ever since I was a little girl, I had this…I dunno…this fantasy of learning how to waltz like they do in Cinderella." There was another beat of silence. "Cinderella's that Disn-"

"I know what and who Cinderella is, Alex. I'm not that excluded from the media and pop culture." His eyes watched her now with a curiosity to them. He never pictured her this way, so feminine.

Extending a hand to her, Hal managed to make her lift her head up quickly. She had on an expression that was a mix of surprise and confusion. "What are you doing?"

"Luckily for you, I happen to know how to waltz." A talent he remembered all throughout his life although it was never of much use after the 1900s.

She carried a smirk now. "Because you were there when it was invented?" She joked. But really, he had set himself up for it.

"Ha ha, hilarious. But honestly now." His hand was steady and still open for her.

Biting down on her lower lip, she thought about it. Really, what was the harm to it? He was only going to teach her how to waltz, that was all. Reluctant, she slid her hand into his. Icy tingles raced down her arms and it felt pleasant for once to know that she wasn't entirely cut off from the world.

Walking her over to the living room, Hal let go of her hand and turned on the radio, fumbling with the knobs until he found a station that was not only playing at this time but that had a song that could possibly work for a waltz. Finding one, a smile returned and he walked easily back to Alex who looked like she was prepared to laugh but couldn't because she was too embarrassed.

He took one of her hand in his and placed her other hand on his shoulder. His free hand fell onto the curve of her waist. "No funny business," she barked.

"Please, I'm not barbaric."

Eyes watching eyes, they began with his lead. "Right foot forward, left foot forward," and the instructions burned themselves into every step, every movement going back and forth. Laughing and smiling came easier now. Grips tightened at missteps with a chuckle here and there. In between, Hal would cry out, "God, you're actually horrible." And she would slap his arm and chide him.

And in the end, she expected her glowing door but there was just her, Hal and darkness.

And in the end, he expected the laughter to drown out his senses but fun can only last for so long before his cravings stirred the demon awake.


End file.
